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Alex awoke to a cold bed but a warm smell of freshly brewed coffee, which he supposed wasn’t a terrible way to wake up.
Alex would’ve preferred to wake up next to a warm body, preferably his Henry, well his roommate and best friend, Henry, whatever, his Henry (Alex was tired, sue him). Actually, Alex would’ve preferred to wake up next to Henry slightly before him to see the golden light that filters through his window hit the blonde’s hair, illuminated in the light and his purple eye bags softer in morning sun.
The whole sleeping together, strictly sleeping, wasn’t particularly new but a little part of Alex was surprised every morning to see Henry on his side of the bed, head faced at Alex, sometimes a hand touching his. Their legs intertwined. An arm thrown around a waist. Or a morning where a back was to chest, spooning each other in sleep, big or little, Alex wasn’t picky.
So naturally, Alex would’ve preferred there to be a tall blonde in the bed beside him, not a cold pillow and even colder side of the bed that would’ve shown no trace of another person. But then there was that smell, the air tinged with the delicious roast that Alex has mailed to him from Texas (he’s an HEB boy, again sue him). Alex sighed contently while pushing aside the comforter to get up, not wanting to keep Henry waiting.
Even without seeing him, Alex knew what he would be doing.
While the coffee was brewing, Henry would be preparing his tea, for as much as Alex was a caffeine addict, Henry with his tea didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Alex would never admit in a million years, at least not to Henry, but also maybe after a few drinks, that Alex has actually grown fond of tea. Particularly the earl grey that Henry buys, sometimes brewing some just for the familiar smell of a certain tea drinker when he’s away.
So, Henry would be making his tea, would potentially make Alex his cup of coffee and then would read at the table, at least a chapter of whatever book he was working on. Henry claimed it was to get in pleasure reading once a day, Alex claimed it was to get out of making breakfast. Not that Alex minded, though Henry could make a mean quiche, the rest of his skills were a work in progress with no ending in sight.
Alex popped by the bathroom, using it and brushing his teeth after before finally stepping into the kitchen where predictably his best friend sat.
Henry at the table, tea in one hand, book in another with a cup of coffee, the stream still visible sat across from him. Alex made his way over, plopping into the chair and grabbing his coffee, the cinnamon hitting his nose and making his eyes flutter. Alex wasn’t religious, not really but there were a few things that made him believe there could be a God or Gods controlling the universe, the first sip of coffee was one of them.
For someone who didn’t like coffee and wanted practically nothing to do with it, Henry always made the best cup. No matter where Alex went, the chain place by his office, the local spot by the books store Henry liked, back home in his childhood home, Alex would swear none of those cups held up to Henry’s. Alex had tried for weeks to see what his secret was, if he somehow reinvented a new way of making coffee so good, Alex would marry it if he could, but to no avail. Henry made it the same way Alex had shown him all those years ago in exchange for learning the “proper way” to make tea.
And while Alex’s tea wasn’t the best Henry had ever, he was in the top three with room to grow as Henry had so lovingly put it, though the brit still preferred making his own in the mornings.
It was all quite domestic. Spending their Saturday mornings together, well spending most of their mornings together, and having a drink together. Alex with his curls out of place and toothpaste stained shirt and Henry with his fluffy house shoes and flannel robe.
With his phone in his room and Henry still immersed in his book, Alex took the time to look at his best friend, the way he would’ve preferred to do while still in bed. But the kitchen light was a soft yellow, giving Henry a soft glow that almost made up for what the sun would’ve done that morning. Alex mentally traced along Henry’s face, the soft looking skin of his face to the moles scattered across, to the hair curling behind his ears to the earring dangling from one side.
Every time Alex got small moments like this, where he could just take in the beauty, because his best friend was beautiful, everyone agreed, he got a swooping feeling in his stomach. And sure, Alex was oblivious to a lot of things, but he knew a swooping feeling wasn’t exactly normal when looking at your best friend. But even at times best friend didn’t encompass what he felt for Henry, something else, something more profound, something that felt closer to a truth that neither man spoke aloud. But it was Henry who was wise with words, not Alex. Sure, Alex was never short on words, but when it came to this, he hadn’t found the right ones yet.
So, Alex would sit across from Henry, watching at he read his book, his face slightly twitching as he read, a small eyebrow furrow or a small smile as he eyes continuous moved across the pages.
Henry more often than not found Alex staring at him, Alex long having exceeded the period where he felt caught when their eyes met. Their eyes met now, Henry sliding his bookmark into place, eyes tracing Alex’s face until hazel met brown, Henry’s eyes crinkling a bit around the sides.
“I assume the coffees alright?” Henry asked as if he didn’t know that Alex preferred his to everyone else’s. Didn’t stop Alex from reminding him every day.
“Always is, sweetheart,” He said.
Henry smiled, one Alex would prove to a jury was solely just for him, reserved just for them. They didn’t need to say anything else. That feeling that Alex couldn’t quite put into words, he had a growing suspicion that he wasn’t alone in it. But Alex was okay with the unspoken words between them. He showed it in other ways and maybe one day, the words would come to him.
“I was thinking waffles?” Alex took a big gulp of his coffee, the warmth igniting every part of him and not just from the temperature.
“Sounds great, dear.”
Alex’s fingers drum against his thigh, in his head he analyzes everything that he needs to do that weekend, creating lists that he’ll later write down on his brightly colored sticky notes that will get added to his calendar and to his phone in his google calendar but for now, his fingers make a continuous rhythm.
For times like now, when he’s not supposed to think about everything that he’s supposed to be doing, his brain running fast as if something were chasing it, he taps his fingers against his thigh. The repetitive pattern typically helps to calm and ground himself, giving his brain something else to focus on, the steady beat that repeats and repeats until he isn’t thinking of all the weight barring his shoulders.
“Alright, darling?” Henry asks from beside him on the couch, pressing pause on the remote.
Remote. Tv. Henry. Right, watching tv with Henry is what he’s supposed to be doing right now, not thinking about his essay for 3345 Advanced Constitutional Law or his part of the group presentation for 3302 American National Government which is actually the whole presentation because Alex didn’t trust his group. He was supposed to be having a much-needed night off watching old seasons of drag race and judging the queens as if he were qualified to do so. But he checked out after the mini challenge, while his body knew how to take a break, his brain sure didn’t.
Alex looked at Henry, the furrow of his eyebrows, the worry lines that appeared, and the concern filling his eyes. He stopped drumming his fingers, flexing his hand before soothing both against his thighs, giving a final neck roll before answering.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Alex shook out his curls before looking at Henry again, wanting to smooth the worry lines with a swipe of his finger, “The hamster in my brain is still running is all. I mean I know I need to relax but it’s hard when all I can think about is everything that I could be doing or starting—"
“Do you mean the stuff that isn’t due for another few weeks at this point?” Henry interrupts, “I’ve seen your calendar and post it notes everywhere. You are weeks ahead of even your own imposed self-schedule.
“I know you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Henry moves a curl back into place with the others, fingers barely grazing his skull, “but even you need rest sometimes. Your work will be there tomorrow, ready for you after you’ve taken some time to recharge.”
Alex let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in. It shouldn’t take someone else to tell him to take a break every once in a while, to slow down before he crashes and burns. Typically, it’s June, claiming a never-ending fire under his ass for no reason and giving 110% all the time when it isn’t always needed.
But now it’s Henry, who will save his work and close his laptop, taking it to another room sometimes. It’s Henry who sees when stopping would actually hurt Alex more than getting 4 hours of sleep would and slides him a snack and a bottle of water. It’s Henry now gently reminding him that the world won’t end if he doesn’t spend every second like he’s running out of time (his mom was almost too accurate naming him Alexander).
“And Ru Paul is how I recharge?” Alex tosses back, the moving parts of his overactive brain slowing for the night, setting the school assignments aside.
Henry shoves his shoulder lightly. “If she doesn’t recharge you, I don’t know what will to be frank.”
Alex laughs, pushing his shoulder against Henry’s, the touch putting a stop to any last remaining hamsters running on the wheel. He pushed further into Henry, head coming to rest against the others chest, Alex now almost laying across Henry. But Henry doesn’t flinch, just bring his arms up to adjust Alex as he slides beneath him, allowing them to both lay on the couch. Alex’s head is pillowed against Henry’s chest, his heart beat a steady rhythm that Alex taps against the couch. One of Henry’s hands sneaks to Alex’s hair, gently running through his curls while the other wraps around his back, a warm weight against the small of it.
It isn’t Ru Paul that will recharge Alex, though Bianca Del Rio is an amazing queen, it’s the man beneath him. Alex’s own personal charging station. He begins to tell Henry this but stops, suddenly the thought feels like he’d reveal too much. Sure, Alex is literally laying atop the other man, cuddling into him like his life depended on it (and it did), but what if that was too much? Was that too honest of Alex to reveal to Henry?
The same feeling is back in his stomach, a swooping that turns to a flutter the closer it gets to his heart. It might be too honest, but Alex has to say it, has to say something.
“You do,” Before Henry can speak, Alex continues, letting the truth spill from his lips, “You recharge me.”
Just three words. Alex feels like Icarus, feels the heat from flying to close to the sun, the hot wax dripping from his wings against his skin, but unlike Icarus, he doesn’t fall, not yet at least.
Henry squeezes Alex in response, not saying a word. But Alex knows. Maybe not everything, especially without Henry saying anything, but Alex feels it. Feels it in the arms wrapped around him and in the heart beat under his head. So maybe he is Icarus, but maybe Henry is the ocean, and if Henry is the ocean, Alex would fall willingly.
The bed sharing was still fairly recent. It all started when Alex and Henry were cuddled on the couch, something that was fairly regular, when each one had dozed off. Alex only awoke to the loud noise that was Ru Paul’s transition laugh, the apartment they had shared for years now dark where the night sky shone through the windows.
“Hen, baby, wake up for a sec.” (The baby thing was also fairly recent, but how could Alex not.) He softly nudged Henry, the man’s head tucked in Alex’s neck, soft breaths hitting his chest and blonde hair tickling his chin. He really did hate to wake Henry.
Alex could go on and on about his always running, overactive brain, his many sleepless nights, the times he laid in bed, the clock reading 4 am and sleep just wouldn’t find him. But nothing compared to Henry. The bags under his eyes as much a part of him as the moles above his lip and the bottom of his chin. Years and years of restless nights and sleepless mornings, Henry and insomnia were adjoined at the hip, two sides of the same coin.
If anyone needed the sleep, it was Henry.
At the very least, Alex had been seeing Henry doze off more around the apartment. A cat nap as Alex cooked dinner. His eyes “just resting, thank you” as he sat across at the table from a study focused Alex. And times like now, spending their nights in watching tv with an abandoned popcorn bowl on the coffee table, Henry would lean against the nearest surface, usually the top of the couch, sometimes Alex’s shoulder and simply sleep.
Sleep was a good look on Henry, one that the brit often disagreed with claiming drool and flat hair wasn’t charming. But Alex didn’t care about that.
Henry didn’t see the soft look in his face as he dreamed. Henry didn’t see the lines of emotions disappear from his face as he slept. Henry didn’t see himself finally look at peace.
So yeah, Alex really didn’t like waking Henry up but since he had also fallen asleep, not a usual occurrence, his normal thought process faltered a bit. Sleepy Alex at the very least knew they would not be happy in the morning when they realized they had slept on the couch, they weren’t as young as they used to be.
Alex tried again, hand gently stroking the other man’s back, “H, wake up. Just for a minute or so and we can go to bed.”
Henry gently stirred, not nearly enough to be completely conscious but at least enough to support his own weight as Alex guided him to Henry’s room. An arm wrapped around his waist and Henry’s head back on his shoulder as they shuffled towards his bed. Alex used his free hand to pull the covers back and guided Henry to the bed. But Henry, whether it sleep induced or not, didn’t release Alex from his grip where he tried to move away.
“Alex?” His voice was deepened with sleep, vowels rounded, eyes squinting open, a small sliver of hazel staring at him. “What are you doing? Thought we were going to bed?” He followed his thought by tugging Alex’s shirt.
Alex was using his actual last brain cell, the only one still awake, “Here?” He vaguely gestured to Henry’s bed, where Henry was lying, blanket still open.
“Where else, dear?” Henry rolled his eyes, then kept them closed. “Do hurry, I’m getting cold.”
And who was Alex to argue what that logic. He slowly climbed into Henry’s bed, a place he’d sat on from time to time but had never been in, not like this at least.
Had Alex been more awake, he’s sure his mind would’ve exploded in a thousand questions, because sure, best friends shared beds. But did they scoot close together? Did they wrap their arms around each other and intertwine their legs? Did they place a soft kiss to each other’s temples?
But Alex didn’t think of that, at least not deeply. Instead, he let sleep take over, falling asleep to the stead rhythm of Henry’s soft snores.
In the morning, they went about it like nothing had changed. Alex when to his 4311 Mock Trial class and Henry worked on his thesis from their kitchen. And when Alex got home, they didn’t acknowledge that night. Alex made dinner and Henry talked about his day, the students in the class he TA’d for 1302 British Literature, the obnoxious classmate in his 1444 Shakespeare: Selected Works course that obviously didn’t read The Tempest and only watched the movie, referring to Helen Mirren’s Prospero and being confused when no one else talked about her. After dinner, Henry washed the dishes and Alex did some last-minute work, occasionally asking Henry for the spelling of a word as he typed.
And when it was time for bed, Henry having already left to his room, the door still open as Alex packed away his notes and grabbed his laptop charger. Alex was heading to his room when Henry’s voice floated over, “Would you mind bringing my water to bed when you’re done?”
Alex froze, charger almost falling out of his hand. Surely, Henry just meant since Alex was already in the kitchen, that’s all. That he brings the bottle to Henry’s room while he was up, simple as that.
A prickle under his skin felt differently.
He shook his head, grabbing the bottle of the counter and tucking it under his arm. Though their rooms were side by side, Alex’s was closer to the kitchen, so he swung by, dropping his bag and charger on his chair before turning back around to take Henry his water.
Henry looked up as Alex entered the room, a book in his hands where he sat against the headboard. He looked over Alex, a head to toe sweep. “Surely you’re not wearing jeans to bed, darling.”
Alex glanced down. He hadn’t changed when he got home, going straight to cook so he could get his essay done after dinner. “I haven’t changed yet, wanted to bring your water.”
Henry glanced at the water, “I appreciate it, but you could’ve brought it after you changed. I wasn’t dying of thirst.” He teased, holding a hand out for the bottle.
Alex’s heart was beating a beat faster, but he couldn’t quite understand as to why that was. He passed the bottle over, Henry’s fingers sliding over his for a brief second. Henry took a drink from the bottle, Alex watching his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
“Well, are you going to change? I’d rather like to go to bed fairly soon if you don’t mind.” Henry nodded his head towards Alex’s clothes before going back to his book.
Alex continued to stand by Henry’s bedside, long enough for Henry to read a whole page before glancing back up at him. For the first time since Alex had come in, there seemed to be some hesitance on Henry’s face. “I mean, if you would like to that is.”
“Like to what?” Alex asked before his brain had realized he had done so.
Alex swore he was smart, he could read between the lines or hear what wasn’t being said. But for some reason, about this, Alex couldn’t go off signs or implications, he wanted, no, needed Henry state it.
Henry’s eye flashed, the colors swirling between browns and greens and hints of blue, but also between shades of fear, insecurity, and something else Alex couldn’t quite figure out.
The other man let out a breath, hands fiddling with the book in his lap, “Go to bed.” He seemed to find a last bit of courage, “Here. With me.”
Oh.
Alex didn’t stay to meet Henry’s gaze. The other man’s words echoing in his mind till all he could think was with me over and over and over again, but it seemed those were the magic words. Alex quickly chucked off his jeans and shirt, replacing the shirt with a sleep one and opting out of shorts, fine with his boxers.
He began to plug in his computer for the night when he realized he should probably respond to Henry, knowing if he were in the other’s spot, his mind would be racing down a negative road.
Alex popped his head around the door frame, “Just need to brush my teeth, sweetheart.”
Henry looked up, the constipated look on his face that must’ve appeared upon Alex’s earlier departure was quick to vanish. A small smile moved into place, “No rush, dear.”
Later that night, after teeth had been brushed and books had been read and phones had been scrolled, they would turn the lights out, leaving the soft glow of faded glow-in-the-dark stars on Henry’s ceiling.
Figuring if Henry could be brave, Alex decided he could be too, he flipped over, facing the other man to find him doing the same. They stared at each other, eyes tracing the few details still visible in the dark.
“Why?” Alex asked quietly. It wasn’t the most specific question, quite the opposite actually, but it was most prominent question on his mind.
Alex went to clarify but Henry seemed to understand him and simply said, “I sleep better when you’re around.”
The words seeped into Alex’s skin, warmer than the blanket wrapped around him. He tugged Henry into his chest, not that Henry put up much of a fight, slotting in as if waiting for the invitation.
“Me too.” Alex all but whispered into Henry’s hair, but he knew the other man heard him.
Alex was running late to get dinner with his sister and Nora. He’d like to blame Henry because it was technically his fault but after reading his puppy dog eyes through text, Alex deemed Henry free of guilt. Alex had been waiting for Henry to leave so they could go together but Henry’s students had other plans. He shot another quick text to the other man telling him to text when he was on his way before entering the restaurant and looking for The Girls.
“Where’s your other half?” June asked as Alex slid into the both across from her and Nora.
Alex opened his menu, “Running late. It’s his TA office hours and of course, the one day we had plans, everyone shows up so he texted that he’ll be out later which is when he should actually be out normally. I told him eventually they would show up and damper his plans but oh well.”
The other side of the table is quiet. Alex looks up, eyebrow raised. “What?”
“You didn’t deny it.” June says searching his face for something, she must find it because she continues. “I said other half and you automatically said Henry, you didn’t deny that he’s your other half.”
Alex shrugs, “So what? I knew you meant Henry, you knew you meant Henry, what’s there to deny?”
June shakes her head, looking at Nora, shrugging in return. Alex rolls his eyes and asks again, “What?”
“Nothing,” they both answer simultaneously.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
June rolls her eyes, “It’s just, I mean, I get that you’re oblivious to things but did you finally figure your shit out?”
Now both of Alex’s eyebrows raise, “First of all, rude, I am a very observant person. And second of all, what? What shit did I need to figure out?”
“You and Henry?”
“What about me and Henry?” Alex asks with an exasperated whine.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that y’all are dancing around each other and have been for months now. I mean, I told Nora I wouldn’t say anything but Alex, how long do you think y’all can do that? Just never acknowledge what’s going on between the two of you?” June said, eyes filled with concern.
The conversation which had started with a light, teasing tone transitioned into a heavy, serious one that seemed to suck the air out of Alex’s lungs.
Dancing around each other?
Sure, Alex would admit that a lot of things between him and Henry were left unsaid, but not unheard. The words didn’t need to be vocalized. Alex cared about Henry, not just as a friend or a roommate or even a best friend. Henry was just about everything to Alex. Henry was Alex’s whole world.
And Alex knew deep down, nestled close to his heart, that Henry knew that. Henry had always seen right through Alex, seemed to know his thoughts and feelings.
And maybe somewhere along the lines, the feelings tipped from platonic to romantic, or at least somewhere along the lines Alex had wanted things to be romantic. It was a truth that he had admitted to himself a while ago. The fast heart beats and stomach swoops and longing stares turning him into a poster boy for pining.
He had vaguely, or so he thought, talked to Nora a while back about it without alluding to Henry or his feelings for Henry, but what Nora knew, June knew.
“Is this about what I told you the other day?” He asks Nora directly, “Like in confidence?”
“I didn’t sign an NDA,” Nora points a chip at him, “But yes, your very vague, ‘how did you know I loved your sister’ question did set off some wires in my brain that I had to tell June about.”
Alex huffed and ran a hand through his hair. That wasn’t necessarily a problem for Alex, them knowing. How could people knowing his feelings for Henry be a problem? How could loving Henry ever be a problem?
But there it was in all its glory. Alex loving Henry.
Again, that in and of itself wasn’t a problem.
“Look, I just—” Alex began but stopped. He didn’t know what to say.
June sighed, almost defeated. “We can just forget about it, act like we never asked, okay? I mean, I know I take the role of overbearing, older sister a little too serious sometimes, but it’s just because I care about you.”
“I get it.” Alex murmured. He cleared his throat, “I get why, it’s just, I mean. This thing, the me and Henry thing,” he looked up, both girls staring back, “I don’t want to lose him. The dancing around or whatever, it works for us, or it has so far. I’m just—"
Scared. Alex was scared, no, terrifed of breaking what they had because he what? Wanted more? Wanted all of Henry’s time? Wanted all of Henry’s affection? Wanted Henry’s love? Wanted all of the other man in any way that he could have him?
“I just can’t lose Henry.” He finished, his heart clawing at itself from where it sat in his chest.
June grabbed his hand, stopping it from its incessant tapping that he wasn’t aware he was doing. “You think you’d lose Henry if you told him how you felt?”
And when June said it like that, it felt like ice water being dumped on his head. The fear spoken a loud was even worse than when it was just a thought in his mind. But that wasn’t the only thing.
“Then what’s the problem?” June asked.
The problem? The problem was Alex.
Alex with his mommy and daddy issues from parents too busy to parent all the time. Alex with his two parents that stayed in a loveless marriage where their kids could see to a nastier divorce that their kids experienced alongside them. Alex with his heavy attachment to his older sister, his second mom and best friend all in one. Alex with his old best friend, unspoken feelings and denied thoughts leading to them never speaking again.
That wasn’t to say that Alex didn’t have good examples of relationships in his life. June and Nora were perfect for each other. His mom and Leo seemed to balance each other out.
But Alex was never able to shake the feeling that if spoke what he wanted into the world, it was crash and burn like everything else.
Maybe revealing his feelings to Henry wouldn’t cause him to lose Henry, but it could. What they had was good, it was basically all Alex could ask for without actually asking for anything. It would be enough for Alex.
Alex shook his head, not wanting to answer June’s question. “I know what I’m doing okay. Can you trust me on that?”
She looked like she wanted to say no, maybe ask Alex another thousand questions, but she didn’t.
“Okay.” June squeezed his hand before letting go, moving to wrap an arm around Nora.
In a different way than Henry, Alex and June had a way of communicating without words, a sibling thing, just them. Nora, while not fluent in the Claremont-Diaz ways of communication, was smart enough to also pick up what wasn’t said.
Alex was glad the conversation was over because no sooner did it need, Henry slid into the booth, face a bit flushed from his rushing over. “Good evening!”
Alex placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed, “I’m glad you made it, Fox.”
Henry smiled at him, eyes crinkling and Alex thought, if this is all he ever gets, it would be enough.
It all comes to head on a regular Sunday. Nothing special, just another ordinary day of the week. Alex wakes up, the other side of the bed is warm but still absent of a blonde.
Alex knows Henry probably just got up, going into their familiar routine. And Alex will follow behind, getting up, using the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He’ll walk into the kitchen, the coffee still brewing this time, but the smell as heavenly as ever along with quiet hum of a kettle cooking for Henry’s tea.
Henry isn’t sat this time reading though, he’s still preparing their mugs, book set in front of his seat as he grabs spoons from the drawer, grabs the cinnamon from the cabinet, and the milk from the fridge.
Alex walks over as Henry deems the coffee ready, pouring some into Alex’s mug, an old mug that says ‘you mean a latte to me’ that Henry got as a gag gift ages ago (Henry now having a matching one from Alex that reads ‘you are tea-riffic’). He goes to grab the cup, attempting to make his own cup so Henry can make his tea but the mug is scooted out of reach, not a drop spilling out.
“I’ve got it, thank you.” Henry dismisses him with a glance. Alex puts his hands up in surrender, knowing that attempting to make Henry’s tea would also get him a look, the first cup of the day at least.
Instead he sits at the table, head in his hand as he watches Henry make his coffee. He pours a little bit of milk, a dash of sugar, and sprinkles a hefty amount of cinnamon before gently stirring it around. Henry makes his tea before bringing Alex his mug, joining him at the table.
Alex takes a sip, it’s as good as it always is. And Henry reads, the turning of his pages filling the morning quiet.
It’s achingly familiar.
Sure, this is their normal routine but it’s also different. Because this time Alex knows what the swooping in his stomach is. He knows what the fluttering in his heart is. He knows the pull and beat and every other feeling in his body is his love for Henry.
This time Alex sits across from Henry and he knows that he loves the other man more than he can put into words.
“You know I love you right?”
Henry’s head snaps up, but aside from that, he’s as calm and collected as he was before.
“Not in so many words,” he answers before adding, “but ultimately, yes, I believe I do know.”
Henry’s lips quirk up, a smile fighting to take over his lips. He doesn’t go back to reading but doesn’t add anything else.
“Good, good,” Alex’s heart is in his throat, “That’s, uh, good.”
“But is it good?” Henry smirks.
Alex rolls his eyes, “Okay, asshole. I don’t know if you realize but I was kinda confessing my love to you, so if you’d be so kind as to hold any snarky remarks to the end, it’d be appreciated.”
“Of course, dear, do continue by all means.” There’s a sparkle in Henry’s eyes.
“Right. Well, I love you.” Alex is firm in his statement, staring directly at Henry so the message is crystal clear, “I think, no, I mean. God this is kinda hard.”
Henry laughs, the noise soothing some of Alex’s nerves. “I love you and I have loved you for a while now. And while I think you already knew that, I wanted to tell you because you deserve to hear it too. I love you.”
Alex finishes this by wrapping his leg around Henry’s, intertwining them under the table. It’s not the most flowerily declaration of love, but it gets his message across.
“And you don’t have to say anything—"
“May I though?” Henry interrupts, a smile, super gummy and adorable, on his face.
Alex nods and Henry pushes his book aside, his hands reaching to grab Alex’s hand not holding his mug. Henry’s thumb rubs soothing circles on his, each circle spreading bits of warmth.
“Alex, if you don’t think for a second that I love you with every last bit of my body and soul, you would be sorely mistaken, love.”
Henry looks down at their hands, “I think I’ve loved you since you walked through the apartment and said “Hey man, how attached to that couch are you?” before even introducing yourself. I loved you when tried to live off coffee and coffee alone. I loved you when you first rested your head on my shoulder and dozed off. I loved you when you would grab my hand in a crowded bar, never wanting us to be separated. I loved you when you stayed the night with me because I sleep better with you there. I loved you when you said I recharge you. And I love you every night and every morning when I get to curl up next to you.
“And while I’ve had a growing suspicion of your affection towards me, I appreciate you saying it. I never wanted to rush you just because I had already been loving you. And I would’ve been happy waiting forever and then some if it was for you.”
Henry looks back into Alex’s eyes, and now he’s sees it. The emotion he could never quite figure out or maybe he didn’t want to believe it in case he was wrong, but Alex sees love in Henry’s gaze.
love, affection, warmth, fondness all at Alex.
“Thanks for waiting for me.” Alex whispers.
Henry brings his hands up to press a soft kiss against each one, “No big deal or no biggie as you Americans say.”
Alex lets out a chuckle at that because in the end it wasn’t a big deal, not in the slightest.
All the worries and fears suddenly fade, just like that.
Because the love has been there all along. In the small touches. In the kind gestures. In the teasing. In the time they shared. In the bed they shared. And now, in the coffee Alex drinks, in the look he gives Henry. Because Alex loves Henry like the sky is blue. And Henry loves Alex like the stars shine in the night. And even without having said it until just now, they both knew and it was enough.
The rest of their days go something like this. Henry wakes up before Alex, but instead of heading to make their morning caffeine, he’ll lay and stare at the other man. Alex is beautiful, even more so as he sleeps, one hand resting on Henry, reaching for him in sleep. Henry gently presses his lips to Alex’s hand. He then continues up Alex’s arm until its soft kisses on his jaw.
Henry knows Alex is awake by this point, he usually is but refuses to open his eyes until he gets the kiss that matters most. Henry always skirts around it, a kiss to his cheek bones, a kiss to his temple, a kiss to his chin dimple, a kiss to tip of his nose until finally a soft press of his lips against Alex’s.
He pulls back, watching as Alex’s eyes flutter open. “Morning, love.”
Alex’s arm stretches over, pulling Henry till he’s flush against Alex. Alex leans in and kisses Henry like he can’t speak until he’s done so, morning breath the least of his worries. He kisses Henry like his life depends on it, like this kiss is the only thing that will get him through the day. Not that Henry would ever complain.
He never used to allow himself to think of what kissing Alex Claremont-Diaz would be like. He would spend his days dreaming of Alex loving him back but anything more? He wasn’t a masochist.
For all his pining, and there was a lot of pining, more than Henry would admit, there were even some dreams that he didn’t allow himself.
But Henry doesn’t have to avoiding dreaming anymore. He gets Alex anytime he wants, his full attention and full affections. He gets to kiss that crooked smile off his face. He gets the breath kissed out of him till he’s gasping against the others mouth. Because kissing Alex is addictive. Because kissing Alex feels like coming home.
Alex himself is Henry’s home, the best one he’s ever had.
Alex gives Henry a final peck, before saying “Mornin’, sweetheart,” his southern drawl heavier in the morning. “Breakfast time?”
Henry nods.
And they’ll both get up. Henry will put Alex’s coffee on to brew and begin to boil his water. And Alex will get some of the stuff out for breakfast, setting them on the counter. And they’ll still sit together and drink their morning beverages, but now Alex sits next to Henry instead of the other side of the table. And sometimes Henry will read his book a loud if he thinks Alex would enjoy it. But ultimately, they’ll sit together enjoying each other’s company, similar to the many mornings before, only this time Alex will squeeze Henrys hand or thigh three times i love you before saying it too. And Henry knows, but he also says it back.